


Ianto Jones Has A Thing For Tosh's Thighs

by catvampcrazines



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, In the Hub, Long day, POV Ianto Jones, Sweet slight femdom., first ever TW fic, fussed with the original syntax a tiny bit, gentle smut, lol, soft kink, torchwood otp, via 2008
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-15
Updated: 2015-01-15
Packaged: 2018-03-07 17:02:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3177432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catvampcrazines/pseuds/catvampcrazines
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ianto and Tosh are working late into the night; both are exhausted and they give each other a bit of comfort.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ianto Jones Has A Thing For Tosh's Thighs

**Author's Note:**

> Original 2008 Notes -This is the first bit of fic I've written in a few years. (I used to write BtVS & AtS.) So really, thank you to the fandom for bringing me inspiration to write again! It's been a pleasant surprise.

  
  
Torchwood was empty save for the two of them. Computers buzzing away.   
  
It'd been a long couple of days and both were tired and on the brink of exhaustion.   
  
Toshiko was still working away at her desk; screen lights playing off her hair, the circles under her eyes visible even beneath her glasses.   
  
That was his Toshiko. Always pushing herself as far as she could go.   
  
He made her some tea, just the way she preferred, and cleared his throat as he set the saucer down on her desk.   
  
She blinked at the sound and dragged her eyes away from whatever was currently engrossing her. Staring blankly at him for a few seconds.   
  
He chuckled softly. "I brought you some tea. You look like you need it."   
  
"Oh!" She smiled gratefully and picked up the steaming cup, taking a small sip before setting it down to cool and swiveling her chair round to face him. "Thank you, Ianto. It's lovely." She touched his hand.   
  
He smiled back. "You're welcome." Glad to be able to help her at least a bit while she worked so hard.   
  
He went to turn away, but her fingers wrapped around his wrist, swinging him back round.   
  
"You're looking pretty used up yourself." She stroked the inside of his wrist with her thumb. "You should take a rest."   
  
As if on cue, his shoulders slumped over. No use trying to hide it really.   
  
His tie had been loosened long ago, along with his shirt sleeves rolled up over his forearms, and top buttons undone.   
  
He was going to open his mouth in protest- she'd been at this for far longer than him- but seemed powerless as she pulled him forward between her legs. Tugging down gently on his wrist.   
  
He whimpered softly as her thighs widened, skirt bunching up, and he was urged to kneel between them.   
  
Fingers played through his hair as he closed his eyes. Settling back on his calves and feeling himself flush as he could feel the warmth generated by her skin having rubbed together.   
  
"Toshiko." He breathed out.  
  
His hands moved up, almost of their own accord, to gather the black material upward. Kissing the inside of her knee as he ran his cheek up her thigh. Sighing from somewhere deep inside as the day's tension left him.   
  
He heard her laugh softly, fondly, as she continued to stroke his hair.   
  
He glanced up to catch the loving look on her face.   
  
It made his heart feel achingly full as their eyes connected and he ran the side of his face against soft skin, kissing and pressing his lips in his favorite spots as he closed his eyes again.   
  
His hands stroked the outside of her thighs as he settled in. Finding just the right spot to pillow his head and moaning in the back of his throat. Sleep already pulling at him.   
  
Eventually her hand moved away and he could hear the clacking of keys again... but every so often he'd feel the brush of her fingertips straying back down.   
  
Rubbing against his scalp as they buried themselves in his hair.   
  
Trailing to the side to stroke along his face.   
  
Drawing dreamy sighs from him.


End file.
